


Sweet As Sugar

by ComingandGoingByBubble



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Caligari Spell, Family, Multi, Sisters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29808486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComingandGoingByBubble/pseuds/ComingandGoingByBubble
Summary: It was just her and her suspicion that something was wrong with her sister.Hilda's perspective of the events that happen after Blackwood and Zelda return from their honeymoon in Rome. Set in Part 2, mention of the Caligari Spell.
Relationships: Ambrose Spellman & Hilda Spellman & Sabrina Spellman & Zelda Spellman, Hilda Spellman & Sabrina Spellman, Hilda Spellman/Zelda Spellman
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	Sweet As Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> Hello CAOS fandom!
> 
> I was doing a rewatch and it was really irking me how in Part 2 that the only one who seemed to notice a difference in Zelda is Hilda, and I wanted to write about it, emphasizing their sisterly bond. There is mention of the Caligari Spell in here, but it doesn't go any further than the implication that they are sleepwalkers when under the enchantment. 
> 
> Basically Sabrina really irked me in this episode, like she really saw Zelda, the woman who raised her, dressed in pastels and with her hair on the other side, and said yup that's Aunt Zelda alright. 
> 
> Also Miranda's acting when she's Lady Blackwood is *chef's kiss*, brilliant, amazing work. The different tone of voice, the movement, it's so good and there is so much to work with, I hope I did it justice.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy this.  
> I've got some more fic ideas to work on, so hopefully I'll be posting more works soon!
> 
> Thank you for reading!

**Sweet As Sugar**

Upon seeing her sister dressed in a gown of rose gold silk with different flowers of varying colors printed on the fabric, and with far too much skin exposed, Hilda knew that something was wrong. Besides the obvious signs including the dress, the heels, the bright lipstick, the way her hair was parted on the other side and in tight curls around her face, Zelda neither acted nor looked like herself. 

Hilda had spent nearly 400 odd years with her sister, knew her better than anyone, better than most, and this… was not her sister. 

She knew that there were more pressing concerns at hand, the witch-hunters and Ambrose’s execution to name a few, but Hilda could not shake the unnerving feeling that something was terribly wrong with her sister. 

So wrong that Hilda couldn’t tear her eyes away, couldn’t even pay attention to the heated conversation between Sabrina and Father Blackwood that was occurring right in front of her. 

The worst part of it all was that Zelda didn’t look concerned or worried for her niece and nephew. She stared straight ahead with a blank expression, a smile on her face that Hilda knew would surely disappear once maybe they were alone, that as soon as she got Zelda away from Blackwood she would come back to herself and come up with a plan to help her save Ambrose and keep Sabrina out of trouble with the Council. 

Surely this was just an act, a performance for Faustus and the Council? It had to be.

In public, Zelda would play the part of Lady Blackwood to appease Faustus, but in private, she’d return to the fiery, no nonsense woman that Hilda knew her to be. 

She glanced around the room, trying to see if she was the only one who noticed anything wrong with Zelda. It appeared so.

Sabrina was wrapped up in taunting Faustus, as Hilda had been worried she would have done now with her new… miraculous powers. She was just sixteen for pity’s sake, it was too much power for her, and Sabrina was always toeing the line between making irresponsible decisions and doing the right thing. 

Hilda was irked by that, by Sabrina’s clear ignorance of her Aunt’s obvious altered state, but that age was filled with a sense of unrighteous self importance and significance, thinking that you could take on the world at sixteen, that Hilda couldn’t be too mad at the girl. 

Ambrose’s poor nerves were shot. They had been since that day that Blackwood had nearly killed him upon finding him in the AntiPope’s chambers covered in blood and holding a dagger. Hilda had been barely able to get more than one word or two word answers, she doubted that he had the energy for pointing out the obvious about his Aunt Zee. He had more pressing things to be concerned with, and the poor dear had been traumatized enough. 

Nicholas Scratch who stood next to her, only had eyes for Sabrina. True, he had known Zelda beforehand, but ever since Sabrina’s miraculous abilities and revival had come about, the boy hadn’t let her out of her sight. 

Besides that, there weren’t many who would have been unnerved by the change in Zelda Spellman. Probably some of them enjoyed it, by the way some of the members of the Council were looking at her, Hilda supposed some of them enjoyed it far more than they should, and she’d have to remember that in due time.

It was just her and her suspicion that something was wrong with her sister. 

As such, she was grateful when there was an awkward silence after Methuselah piped in to quell the rather tense conversation between Sabrina and Blackwood, one that Hilda took as an opportunity to ask to see Zelda in person.

“Sorry… I,” she paused, not sure how to phrase this in a way that would get Blackwood to approve., “wonder if I might have a little visit with my sister?” She pointed her gaze towards Blackwood, knowing that the answer to her question laid with him.

“In private?” she added, for she knew that she needed to be alone with Zelda and not under Faustus’ watchful eye.

Blackwood hummed, as if he had completely forgotten about his bride, however could he, that dress practically shone like the sun in the light? 

Zelda’s vacant face turned towards Faustus, but she gave no indication as to whether or not she wanted to talk to Hilda. He stared at her for a moment longer before muttering, “Fine,” under his breath, eager to get back to the task at hand. 

Hilda breathed a sigh of relief at that. 

* * *

However, upon entering the bedroom that had been specifically designated for Zelda, Hilda saw that her sister still acted just as she had in front of the Council and Faustus. There was no switch into her raspy, gravelly voice, no sharp movements that Hilda had become accustomed to, and she even refused to light a cigarette. 

Zelda was still as sweet and sugary as she had been in the High Priest’s office, and Hilda wondered if they were being watched or listened to. That had to be it, that had to be why Zelda refused to drop the act. Some bug or charm Faustus had on her to listen to them, to keep her in line. 

Hilda had seen the look exchanged between Zelda and Faustus before they had left for Rome on the steps of the Academy, she had seen her sister’s hidden ire in her eyes and the firm jutting of her jaw that she always wore when she was cross. Hilda should have paid more attention to it. To Zelda, to what she was getting herself into. 

Not that she doubted her sister, Heaven above knew if anyone got in her way there would be Heaven and Hell to pay, Zelda Spellman was fierce, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that Zelda’s marriage to Faustus would end badly. As much as Zelda proclaimed that she could control him, encourage him, influence him, Hilda had seen men similar to Faustus get their way time and time again no matter what. Especially a powerful warlock that was now to be the Anti-Pope, Faustus’ greed knew no bounds. 

Hilda hung back near the entryway while Zelda waltzed over to the vanity by her bed, holding something in her hands. She wound it up, turning a handle over and over again while the gears moved. 

Music floated softly through the air, and Hilda tried hard to understand what this was all about. Perhaps the music would drown out their conversation, stop Faustus from listening to them. Was it a clue?

“Isn’t this music box marvelous?” Zelda asked, her voice melodic and high-pitched, so abnormal from her usual voice that Hilda was so startled to hear that voice come out of her sister’s mouth that she was stunned into silence. As the music played, Zelda set the box back down on the vanity, “It was a wedding present from His Unholy Eminence. He gave it to me on our first night in Italy.”

All Hilda could manage was a slight, “Aww..” but what she really wanted to get to the matter at hand, but Zelda continued. 

“It’s one of Leonardo’s designs,” she said twirling to face Hilda with a smile on her face. 

“It’s lovely, Zelda,” Hilda praised, not wanting to upset her but also wanting to keep the conversation going. She had just taken a breath to gather herself when Zelda interrupted her.

“You may call me Lady Blackwood,” Zelda corrected her with a pointed look, as if she detested being called by her actual name, and preferred to be called by her married name. 

Hilda’s brow furrowed deeply at that. That was not like Zelda at all. 

“Is… is everything okay?” Hilda asked, her hands fumbling nervously as she was still trying to make sense of it all, glancing at Zelda worriedly. The past few days had been a whirlwind of emotions, but hellhounds this was her sister, and she would get to the bottom of whatever was happening to her.

“Did.. did something happen with Father Blackwood?” Hilda hadn’t wanted to ask this, but she felt like she should have. She knew she shouldn’t be prying into a couple’s marriage, but this was her sister for Satan’s sake, this was Zelda. Well, this wasn’t Zelda and that was exactly the point of her asking this question.

“His Unholy Eminence,” Zelda corrected once again, glancing back at Hilda from her mirror, a hand to her curls, her voice firm and lower than it had been before. 

That tone meant business. Perhaps Hilda had unknowingly crossed a line.

“His Unholy Eminence, yup,” she said in response, not wanting to incur Zelda’s wrath. 

But bewilderingly, instead of snapping at her like Hilda expected her to do, Zelda chuckled girlishly. Her face lost its ire, and was replaced by a sickeningly happy expression that Hilda frankly had never ever seen on her sister’s face before.

“Why, we danced, of course,” Zelda sang in a light voice, twirling around the room. She sighed daintily before continuing, saying, “My husband is a marvelous dancer.”

Hilda was taken aback, literally and figuratively as she moved as to not be in the way of her sister’s twirling. 

Something was definitely wrong here, definitely wrong with Zelda but Hilda couldn’t place her finger on what or how to fix it. 

Before she could say anything however, anything that might snap Zelda out of whatever trance or spell she was under, Zelda had set a tray of tea down before them. 

Hilda was quite unnerved to see Zelda like this, to see her strong, feisty sister so submissive and demure. Frankly it made Hilda all the more concerned. Not once had Zelda offered a sarcastic comment or even a snide remark, nevertheless berated Hilda for what had occurred in Greendale while she had been gone. 

Zelda didn’t seem to care, and Hilda knew that that was not her sister’s way. Zelda cared, more than anyone, she cared deeply about Ambrose and Sabrina. How she could act so callous and unbothered was beyond Hilda and raised red flags in her mind.

Zelda delicately lifted the ornate teapot and poured a cup for Hilda, all the while looking like some Disney princess from one of those movies that Sabrina used to love to watch.

Hilda instinctively flinched. She had never seen Zelda be so careful and delicate with anything, she’d always had a slightly rough touch, especially when it came to using items of everyday use such as a teapot, or a hammer, or a shovel to kill her own sister.

“Now, remind me,” Zelda trilled, her voice delicate, “How do you take your tea?”

Before Hilda could even stammer out a response, Zelda cut in once more.

“Oh, wait!” She set down the teapot, eyes still on Hilda. “Don’t tell me,” she said with a girlish smile on her lips, “Sugar.”

“No,” but Hilda’s protest didn’t seem to make a difference. 

She started to say a sentence but then became transfixed as she watched Zelda pick up some small tongs and grab the cubes of sugar from the container.

She then plopped two cubes of sugar into the tea cup.

The sound of the tongs clicking together seemed to snap Hilda out of her trance, and she carefully took a few steps forward towards Zelda, wanting to be within earshot of her in case Faustus was listening.

“Sorry, Zel… Lady Blackwood.” She paused, coming closer to her sister. “Forgive me, but are you not worried about Ambrose or Sabrina?”

She was hoping that now would be the time that Zelda would take off the mask, to reveal her true colors and feelings about this whole chaotic situation, and that they could come up with a plan, but Zelda’s face remained impassive and blank.

One hand was on the saucer that held the tea cup, the other half-closed by her shoulder in the air as if she had dropped her hand from the shoulder of a partner she was dancing with.

Zelda straightened then, after taking a moment to respond.

“My husband knows best in these matters,” she said with a head tilt. “He is the Anti-Pope, after all.”

Hilda was left stunned at that and before she could bother to come up with a retort, some sort of question that would hopefully have Zelda come back to her, her sister spoke again.

“Now, remind me, how do you take tea?” Zelda asked again, her voice melodic and girlish once more.

“Wait, don’t tell me,” a sugary sweet smile came over Zelda’s face then and Hilda realized that she was going to get nowhere with her sister today, at least not with her like this. 

“Sugar,” said Zelda happily and plopped two more cubes into Hilda’s already full cup.

* * *

  
  


Hilda’s nerves hadn’t dissipated or lessened when they were all called back into the Head Priest’s office to hear the Council’s decision about Sabrina and Ambrose.

As Hilda suspected, the council let Sabrina and Nicholas resume their classes at the Academy of Unseen Arts, thanks in no small part to their efforts to defeat the Witch Hunters that had terrorized Greendale. 

The nerves increased tenfold when Methuselah stated that Ambrose Spellman was to be executed for his crimes. Sabrina fought against the accusation for him, seeing as Hilda was far too busy in her own head trying to think of what to do, now that Zelda seemed to be out of commission as far as helping her went. 

The only hope that they had laid with Leviathan, Ambrose’s familiar, a mouse who had been missing and who no one could find, or at least the Council nor Faustus could not find him. 

The Council and Faustus gave Sabrina 24 hours to find and produce Leviathan as a witness, and Hilda teleported herself back home to try and calm her nerves. She sat at the kitchen table with a cup, and thought to herself. 

Something clearly was wrong with Zelda, and while Ambrose was trapped in a cell, and Sabrina trying to locate Leviathan, it was up to Hilda to figure out what was wrong with her sister and come up with a plan to help her.

Rummaging through her brain of all the spells that she had learned at the Academy, and elsewhere, Hilda came up with nothing. She moved into the conservatory to try and see if a change of scenery would jog her memory and thoughts. 

She bustled around with her plants, still thinking.

She knew it had to be devious and clever, this was Blackwood after all, and she had never fully trusted him near her sister. Zelda was confident she could handle him, but Hilda knew that whatever he had done to Zelda it was something beyond her control or power to resist. 

Her sister was a witch of prodigious skill and talent, but whatever Blackwood had done to her Zelda could not undo by herself. 

Hilda started to think of the spells that she had read about once in one of her romance books, the spells that sometimes occurred between husband and wives. Of course, some were for purely fictional reasons, artistic licensing and all that, but Hilda had read enough to know which ones were real and could be used. 

One particular spell was on the tip of her tongue, it started with a “c” she remembered that. The spell had been mentioned in a book that she read, a spell used to quell a so-called uppity wife, in fact Hilda thought that it had been used several times back in olden days of the Coven, she thought she had heard rumors that their own Father had used it on their Mother during the first few months of their marriage. 

Calamari? No, no that was the dish. 

The spell was on the tip of her tongue just as Sabrina came marching into the conservatory. 

“Good news, Aunt Hilda. We found Leviathan.”

This news completely caught Hilda off guard and threw off her train of thought.

“You did? Oh, I thought he was…”

“His corpse was in a dumpster behind Dorian’s.” Sabrina faced her, a triumphant smile on her lips, “But I resurrected him, and now he’ll be able to testify.”

That floored Hilda.

“Er, sorry, what do you mean, you resurrected him?” Her brows furrowed again. She had only heard of Sabrina’s new powers and had seen her miraculously come back to life in the Academy, but all of these new powers were still so startling to her. If Zelda were here, she would know what to do.

She thought back to the last time Sabrina had tried to resurrect someone and had slayed Agatha in their own Cain Pit. 

“And, erm, what poor creature did you have to sacrifice in order to bring Leviathan back from the dead?” 

Sabrina’s face lit up at that, and Hilda’s stomach turned.

“That’s the amazing part, Aunt Hilda. None.” 

When Hilda had nothing to say to that, Sabrina kept going.

“I just brought Leviathan back,” Sabrina said with a shrug as if she was talking about a change in the weather, or something innocuous, not bringing a dead familiar back to life.

“Right, well, then, you better brace yourself, girl, because everything has a price. That’s how witchcraft works.” Hilda thought that they had impressed upon this enough to Sabrina, especially after what happened with poor Thomas Kinkle, but Hilda could see in her niece’s eyes that she still hadn’t learned her lesson.

“But I don’t think there’s a price for me.” The girl even had the audacity to shrug Hilda’s warning off, which irked her more than she could say.

“Huh?” she managed to stammer out, trying to stay calm in the face of Sabrina’s oblivious antics, but she had to admit it was getting harder and harder to reason and rationalize with her niece. Even more reason why she needed to get Zelda back.

“Not anymore,” clarified Sabrina which elicited a simple, slightly sarcastic, “Oh?” from Hilda.

“I think I’ve tapped into a different kind of magic.”

Sabrina met her eyes, and Hilda knew her own mouth was agape, trying to figure out what to say to her wayward niece.

“One that isn’t based on cause and effect. It feels different.”

Hilda rolled her eyes, her jaw tensing. Hellhounds she wished Zelda were here.

“You are racking up a cosmic debt the like of which the world’s never seen,” Hilda grounded out, trying to make Sabrina understand, witchcraft always demanded a price. There was always a sacrifice and nothing was ever this easy.

Sabrina’s face dimmed just slightly.

“And oh, ohh I forgot! Healing the blind! Oh, for Satan’s sake, I know you love your friend, I love her too. What is Roz gonna tell everybody?” She questioned harshly. “Hm, because mortals are gonna notice a little thing like that.”

“Maybe I want them to notice,” Sabrina said indignantly. Hilda’s back straightened at the tone her niece took.

“Oh,” was all she managed.

“Maybe I want to share my gifts with the world.”

“Sabrina,” Hilda’s voice lowered to a whisper, “The most terrible things happen to witches when they reveal themselves to mortals.”

Sabrina shook her head, “My father revealed himself to my mother.”

“Slowly!” snapped Hilda, her voice on the verge of exasperation, “over time!”

“And you revealed yourself to Dr. Cerberus,” Sabrina pointed out. “Overnight.”

Hilda stopped for a moment. That was too far.

“Excuse me, lady!” her outburst startled Sabrina and frankly at this point, Hilda was glad that the girl had been startled, at least it meant that she might actually be listening to the words Hilda was saying.

“I revealed some personal information to someone I love and trust. And it’s not dissimilar to you and Harvey, by the by. And now you, you talk about…” Hilda paused, flustered, “Oh I’m gonna tell all of Greendale!”

“With Father Blackwood ascending, and Ambrose on the literal chopping block, maybe discretion isn’t the better part of valor,” countered Sabrina.

“What are you saying?” Hilda got out, her irritation and frustration with her niece bleeding into her voice.

“I’m saying, first things first. We save Ambrose. And then we tell Father Blackwood and The Council that there is another parth we can take moving forward. Mortals and witches.”

Hilda rolled her eyes again.

“Oh! Mortals and witches. Side by side. Two by two. It’s like Noah’s bloody Ark.”

“I died and came back, Aunt Hilda,” Sabrina reminded her. 

Oh yes, Hilda remembered that well, she couldn’t explain it, neither would she even try to, but Sabrina seemed emboldened by her resurrection, and Hilda wished for once, she would take the side of caution. She put her head in her hands, there was too much to think about, too much to do on her own.

“I don’t know how, but I did.”

Hilda groaned, wishing more than ever that Zelda had never married Blackwood and that she’d have her here as support.

“With powers that I can’t explain, and I can either choose to be afraid of them, or I can use them to help Ambrose, to save the coven from Father Blackwood.”

Hilda was stunned for a moment, before she collected herself to challenge her niece.

“Do you ever care to hear anyone else’s advice?”

“I’m saying-” Sabrina's voice grew louder.

“I feel like you don’t wanna help, otherwise you’d have come and done this differently.”

“Well, I want to help…”

In Sabrina’s silence, Hilda thought she heard something. Some sort of squeaking, or crunching, she couldn’t tell what. It wasn’t Ambrose, the poor boy was still locked in the cell at the Academy. 

She pushed the thought aside though, for Sabrina was ramping up to start an argument again, but Hilda beat her to it.

“Why are you here?”

“Aunt Hilda, I’m just trying to tell you-”

The squeaking grew louder and Hilda shushed Sabrina.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait…” She said, holding a hand up, and listening closely. She was right, the squeaking was growing louder and more frantic. It was then followed by a horrendous almost saw like noise, as if something was tearing a blade through a piece of meat.

“What was that?” Hilda asked as Sabrina turned towards the kitchen, the place where the awful sound was coming from.

Sabrina glanced at her, and then marched into the kitchen, with Hilda close behind. 

“Aunt Zelda, stop! What are you doing?” Sabrina cried as she watched Zelda turn the meat grinder situated on the edge of the table daintily but with force, the little tail of Leviathan still wiggling between her fingers.

Hilda nearly fell over upon entering the kitchen. Her mouth agape, she had let out a gasp upon seeing Zelda so violently murder Leviathan, still dressed in that rose gold dress, her hair still curled.

“Ladies, one simply must not keep a mouse in the house,” Zelda chided in that melodic voice, looking at both Hilda and Sabrina before turning the lever on the grinder once more, blood spilling onto the counter in between the tattered remains of the poor mouse.

It was then that the pieces fell into place for Hilda. It finally all clicked. She remembered the name of the spell.

“Whatever were you thinking?” Zelda asked them, tutting and shaking her head.

“Oh, Aunt Zelda, what are you…” But Hilda grabbed Sabrina’s arm, trying to think quickly in order to break the spell that Faustus had put over Zelda.

“Oh, Sabrina, Sabrina...” the girl turned towards her.

“It’s a Caligari spell, I think,” it felt good to finally put a name to the spell that her sister was currently under. It felt like hope. At least a way out.

“What?” Sabrina’s brow furrowed.

“It’s like an old spell warlocks used to use on their wives, when they got a bit uppity,” yes, she remembered now, from that book she had read ages ago, “It turns them into somnambulists.”

“Sleepwalkers,” Sabrina said with a shake of her head.

“I think Father Blackwood must’ve put her under when they were on their honeymoon.” She stole a glance towards her sister and suddenly it all clicked.

“Oh, He’ll be controlling her with that damn music box!” She knew that the music box had to play a part in this somehow, but until she remembered the spell she forgot that one must have an object in which they place a picture of those they wish to enchant, and a music box was sickeningly clever on Blackwood’s part. 

“What music box?”

“It’s in her chambers in the Academy,” Hilda said, remembering that she and she alone had seen the music box in Zelda’s room. 

A loud snapping filled the room as Zelda opened up a brown paper bag to put Leviathan's smashed up remains in, still the picture of elegance. 

Hilda glanced at her sister.

“Uh, Zelds… what are you doing?” She forgot the bloody title, or whatever damn thing Faustus was making Zelda say she wanted to be known as, it didn’t matter, not now. She gave her a small but hesitant smile, trying to keep the peace.

Zelda glanced up at her, “Why, cleaning up, of course,” she stated, matter of fact-like.

Hilda was horrified. Zelda had never once cleaned up anything in her life, she had always left it to Hilda or Edward when they had been younger. Yes, yes her sister did a fine job in the embalming room and with her work on corpses, and in midwifery, but cleaning up in the kitchen? That was not Zelda, that would never be Zelda.

Hilda watched, squeamish and uneasy as Zelda lifted the grinded remains of Leviathan and placed them inside the bag with a wet squelching sound. Hilda half took a step forward to help her.

“Wait, what does the music box look like, Aunt Hilda?” asked Sabrina, “Describe it to me.”

“It’s erm, I will,” she stammered, getting distracted by the blood that was now soaked onto the kitchen table, “...here let me help,” and she moved towards Zelda and continued talking to Sabrina.

“It’s… it’s a wooden box, and er, it’s got a pin closure and er….” she nearly gagged then seeing the poor mouse’s remains being scooped up with a utensil and tossed into a bag. She retrieved a sponge from under the counter and began scrubbing away at the blood as she tried to remember what the music box looked like, “... gold embellishments, and there’s a little figurine of a woman in a green dress and red hair,” she looked up as Sabrina turned to face her, “She’s twirling around… Hellhounds,” she exclaimed when she saw that Sabrina was holding the music box in her very own hands.

“How did you do that?” Hilda asked, “How did you bring an inanimate object through space and time?” all the while Zelda continued to clean up, and the haunting, infernal tune floated through the air from the box.

“I willed it so, Auntie,” Sabrina shrugged as she put the box on the table.

Before Hilda could say anything about what they were to do with the music box, Zelda turned to her, a sugary sweet smile on her face.

“You know what would make this counter smell fresh as spring?” she asked gently, and Hilda struggled to keep her composure for this was not her sister at all, and it was as if Zelda was becoming less and less like herself the more time she was under this spell.

And so, Hilda simply made some noncommittal noise as an answer, which Zelda accepted.

“Some squeezed lime,” she stated proudly, looking at Hilda and then Sabrina.

“Squeezed lime,” repeated Hilda, bewildered and horrified at the words coming out of her sister’s mouth. Zelda then twirled away from the counter, and Hilda made a dash for the music box near Sabrina.

“Aunt Hilda…” Sabrina wasn’t sure what to do. She still held it in her hands. 

“Wait, give it here, give it here, hm,” Hilda took the box in her own hands, trying to figure out where Blackwood would have put the enchanted item in this bloody thing. Her hands rummaged through it nervously, until she finally found a small picture of Zelda inside of it.

“I think… I think that this should break the enchantment,” she said holding it in her hands and after a moment’s pause, smashing it against the wood, breaking the glass on the table.

The music stopped abruptly. Zelda stood still, one hand cleaning with the sponge, the other in the air delicately.

Hilda and Sabrina watched nervously. 

Zelda blinked slowly, and then glanced down at her dress, then at the blood, and finally at Hilda and Sabrina.

“Satan in hell, what am I wearing?” she uttered in her typical voice, disdain laced in each word.

Hilda breathed a sigh of relief, releasing the tension from the past few days with a sigh.

Zelda was back. 

She was back and now they could figure things out together, as sisters, as a family.

Praise Satan, indeed.

  
  
  



End file.
